


Oh the Insanity

by salt (orphan_account)



Series: Hungerstuck [2]
Category: Homestuck, Hunger Games - Fandom
Genre: Gore, Humanstuck, Hungerstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Sadstuck, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/salt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Karkat stepped onto the stage; he knew he was going to die.<br/>He was from the district of Grain for fucks sake, he didn't have a chance in hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Luck from No one

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part two of hungerstuck, where you may hear Karkats perspective

He was 16 and stuck. There was no one to volunteer or cry for him here in his shit hole of a district, but even when there was no one to pity him, he pitied the 12 year old standing by his side and the fear that caused tears to spill down her cheeks.

He was shoved into a dark room where he was supposed to wait while his loved ones rushed in. They would sob and cry and pray he would win. That’s what they would do if they existed.

While he could hear the screams of the young girls’ family as they were ripped from her, he sat alone in the dark room. No one came to see him.

He simply waited until he was shoved somewhere else.

From the crowd to the stage to the dark to the train, no one cried for him. When they met their mentor onboard the train, he gave them no advice for combat.

  “Just stay alive as long as you can.” He said.

  “But how did you win?” The girl, Aradia, asked.

  “I hid. I hid and harvested and when I was faced with the final tribute, I beat him down with a brick until he stopped squirming.”

And then he left.

He left Karkat sitting alone in the train car, with a girl who sat and cried into herself.

Their mentor was useless, their abilities were useless and neither of them had a hope in hell that they would survive past the cornucopia.

The train ride was silent and filled with tension and when they arrived at the train station, the citizens of the capitol roaring at their arrival,

Karkat spat out the window at them.


	2. The Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this a while ago, and i didnt submit it right away because i wanted to get more chapters of part one out... buuuuutttt ive been putting it off obviously sO HERES WHAT I GOT

When it came time to prepare to meet his stylist, Karkat nearly bit off the fingers of the assistants that prodded and stripped him, which lead him to being held down by four peacekeepers while they did their work, the young tribute screeching and writhing through the entire thing until finally giving up, leaving them to it.

At some point Karkat noticed the silence and lack of hands prying at his body, and he dared to open his eyes. When he did, he found a stubby dark skinned man leaning against the doorway, just standing there and watching him.

Karkat jumped up, covering himself with the simple gown he had been given.

  “Holy shit! How long have you been standing there?” He hissed.

  “A while.” The man smirked. He had a heavy accent.

  “Yeah well that’s fucking creepy. Are you my stylist?” Karkat slung his legs over the side of the table he was lying on, sitting up to face the stranger.

  “That would be me. The name’s Spades.” The man slowly made his way over to him.

  “Spades? Spades what?” The boy asked warily.

  “Just Spades.”

  “Okay. ‘Spades’, how are you going to help me not die right away?”

  “Well first I’m going to make you look like a pile of hay. But that’s not the part that matters, what matters is that I don’t want you to die. So you won’t.”

Karkat was stopped at this.

  “You don’t?”

  “All my past clients have been slaughtered in the first day, and that’s why you won’t. Because I can talk to your mentor and we can talk you up kid. You’ll have more sponsors than you know what to do with.”

  “Slaughtered in the first day. Encouraging.” Karkat growled.

  “You’ll make it kid, now get up. You have a parade to get ready for.”

 

***

 

When he saw himself in the mirror Karkat wanted to strip down right there and go to the parade nude. He was even less impressed when he saw the stout Aradia hidden in a clump of grass.

  “How the fuck is this going to help us.” He muttered. His district-mate seemed to have changed since he’d last seen her. Her eyes were wide and she looked more excited than scared now. Whatever her stylist had said it must have been inspirational. Karkat sighed, thinking of his stylist who was as helpful as a pile of dirt. If he had wanted the boy to look like a pile of grain for the parade they could have just left him as he was when he left his district.

He felt humiliated and looking at the other tributes wasn’t helping in the slightest. Some looked like kings, others feathered like birds and two even… one of them had a cape. The fucker. Karkat wanted a cape. Karkat wanted to rip off that cape and hide under it.

  “Alright its time to go.” Areon, their district’s assigned Capitolian, whispered to the teens, moving them towards the chariot.

  “Hurry, set me on fire. Stab me. Kill me now.” Karkat groaned.

  “You look ridiculous…” Their mentor, Gathel, murmured, Spades punched him in the shoulder and Aradia’s stylist laughed.

  “They look fantastic. Now shut up and get ready.”

The first tributes were heading out, one, two… then six, seven… eight…

  “Here we go.” Aradia whispered, causing Karkat to shoot her a look. She hadn’t made a sound other than sobs since he met her.

Suddenly the lights were on them, and Karkat’s eyes widened. There had to be hundreds- no thousands maybe millions of brightly colored people sitting in bleachers and seats. Multiple Balconies all stuffed. They looked like colorful boxes of candies like ones Karkat had seen in the markets.

The crowd roared, but the attention seemed to be on district 5, not him and the girl next to him. Everytime he heard laughter he was sure it was because they had caught sight of him and Aradia.

  “Whats that!?” They heard the MC cry, and the view on the giant TV screen shot to District 12. It was the idiot with the red cape and the girl dressed in orange standing next to him. Their hands were locked together and their expressions were hard.

  “What the fuck is he wearing, seriously?” Karkat grumbled and Aradia giggled, shooshing him.

At the end of the line, the chariots circle around a tall balcony, where at the top, stood a large man with a head balder than a vulture.

  “That must be President English.” Aradia whispered.

  “Would it be considered rude to flip him the bird.” Karkat muttered back and Aradia giggled again.

  “Yes.”

  “Welcome, Welcome.” President English’s voice boomed through the surrounding speakers, causing the crowd to quiet.

  “We welcome you tributes and we appreciate your bravery, and your sacrifice.” He spoke a few more words as Karkat let his gaze scan the other men standing behind the President, and then on the one beside him. He was shorter, and scrawnier, but he had a head as bald as the President’s and a grin twice as sicker. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Excellent, President Douchebag the second.” He thought to himself.

  “May the odds be ever in your favor.” English concluded and the crowd roaring in response as the chariots moved away from the center. 


End file.
